Chapter 3: Examination
by EcontraBlue
Author's Note:
This is a pre- Transformers Prime timeline. Much of the Cybertron lore and past hinted at in the TFP series are too fertile for me to resist. There are some alterations to the Aligned continuity using IDW and G1 for backstory but most of the primary characters will be from the TFP show. For more extended Notes please see the end of Chapter 1.
Summary:
Before coming to earth, the Decepticon warship Nemesis spent millennium in space facing trials of starvation, mutiny and uncertainty. There among the Decepticon elite and the last remnants of the army, Megatron and his future second-in-command, Starscream form the lasting bonds that tie them together for better or worse.
The Nemesis:
'Wakey, wakey.' A low voice was purring near his audio receptors. It was so obnoxious that Starscream's spark leapt in hope.
'Sky...warp?' his voice was hoarse as he slowly re-started his optics.
'Who?' A red blur appeared in his line of sight.
As his processor came back online, Starscream realized that he must be back on the Nemesis. Flashes of short-term memory flooded back to him, Ramjet's spark on his clawtips, Alpha Trion- the spark extractor! Was he- he had survived somehow!
Thin fingers patted his chest plate and held him down.
'Calm down, Commander Starscream. Congratulations on that by the way.'
Starscream rebooted his optics again and was greeted by Hook's assistant. Knock-about or something like that. Knock-Out? Yes.
'What's happened since I've been offline?' he was taken aback by how soft his vocalizer was before realizing that someone had manually turned it down. He must have been crying out under stasis. He re-set that modification and swallowed.
'What is Lord Megatron's status?'
Knock Out spread his arms in good humor and gave Starscream a little smile. 'Oh he's just fine. I don't think anything could offline him, to be honest. YOU took a nasty little knock to the head and then just went and locked up due to energon deprivation.'
Oh.
'The spark extractor?' He hissed, sitting up and feeling remarkably better. His tanks seemed to be full, for the first time in vorns.
'Wasn't a spark extractor!' Knock Out seemed perfectly content to gossip with Starscream, leaning on the examination table and crossing his legs casually. 'It turns out that it was some sort of spark imploder- it vaporized Alpha Trion and deprived our lord of a fine trophy, but otherwise there were no casualties.'
Starscream fell back onto the table- stinging from embarrassment.
'Well it sure LOOKED like a spark extractor to me.' he mumbled, flexing his sore patched wing.
'Enough to convince you AND Lord Megatron.' Knock Out stood and walked away from Starscream, strolling to a console to enter in the new Commander's onlining time and specs. On the heavier exam table was the grey frame of Ramjet- his body being picked apart for organs that hadn't been damaged in the last battle. Two Vehicon helpers were prying tubes of Energon cabling out of his chest, working carefully and quietly. The sight might have disturbed him sometime in the beginning of the war- now it was a simple matter of efficiency.
Starscream slipped his Energon feed out of his side and let the small port close. He daintily found his footing and stepped of the berth.
'Were there...orders left for me?' his wings clicked. Megatron had cuffed him hard before and he didn't want to risk another blow.
'None at all. I think that's a sign that you should relax- Commander Starscream.' Knock Out purred with that smug smile onto his console. Something about it irked Starscream and he rose, cracking his repaired claws and feeling a little bit of glee at Knock Out's optics watching them.
'If that's what you think then its a good thing you stay hidden in the Medical wing.' Starscream hmphed at the failed seeker and strode from the room. He didn't get a cube on energon this time- he didn't need it.
His tanks were full and he could feel himself internally mending and repairing all the little nicks and dings on even his most extraneous parts. The Nemesis lights were on- a soft, dim level.
Starscream took a long patrol around the ship, observing that the rear hangers were being repaired, the cantina was well-stocked and the engine...
He circled to the engine room, shooing the docile worker drones from their posts and plugging into the engine data feed. It seemed as though the tank levels were at a high enough level for the ship itself to begin some self-repair.
Had their mission in the end been successful? Who would have guessed that Ramjet's failure in the end would be enough to gather what they needed.
These were all good signs, but they did nothing to relieve the nervous tension darting through Starscream's processor.
His first assignment had been successful but only through happenstance. He hadn't led the raid on the Autobot repository and he hadn't been able to prove his strategic brilliance. The Nemesis was still gutted and pocked with damages. There wasn't any knowing when the next chance to refuel would be. The weight of his position and its responsibilities was making his wings twitch with anxiety.
The mighty flagship seemed to be docked by the former Autobot outpost, now checkered with drones carrying welding equipment and cannibalizing metal from the base. It had limped in and from the looks of it, been unable to avoid a small collision with the antenna- mounted like a great needle from the raided repository. There were damage reports from the collision reported as far as the bridge level.
He needed to see Lord Megatron. He needed to know if the warlord approved of him- all these results seemed mixed indeed- even entirely out of his servos, but one could never know for sure with the titan himself.
He unplugged himself from the data feeds and walked with a spring in his step up towards the bridge.
Isolation was never something he had tolerated well- even if he had to give up his position as trine leader, he was willing so long as he wasn't despised and abandoned. Now that the shock and panic of imminent deactivation was no longer dulling his processor- Starscream found that he desperately needed to have trust in someone around him. Megatron's quick acceptance and flying earlier had been promising. They had cut through an asteroid field in a dance.
It had felt right and good- like Starscream was meant to be there, twining across Lord Megatron's contrails and spinning past. And really, who else was there equal to him in the sky now?
*You said you didn't need a trine. But you want him still?*
'Megatron doesn't do that sort of thing.' Starscream shook his head, a deep guilt washing over him. It was too soon to even seriously contemplate.
*Oh yeah? I guess he wouldn't really want to someone who's been through so many partners, either.*
'Its not such an uncommon thing to lose partners during war.' Starscream mumbled bitterly, turning to walk down an isolated hallway.
*Starscream, no one has served for Megatron in his high command and lived past a few vorns besides Shockwave.*
He shifted and glanced around the corridors to ensure no one saw him reply. 'I'm different.'
*That's up to him, isn't it?*
'I've lost partners, he's lost commanders. Perhaps we'll cancel each other out for once.'
Starscream criss-crossed the wreckage, listening and looking for the great silver form of the Decepticon warlord but found nothing but drones. He even discovered Soundwave, silently overseeing the dismantling of the Space Bridge with Hook grumbling bitterly at his bad fortune. After a joor of searching for his Lord and coming up short, with no indication from the troops to where he might be, Starscream guessed that his leader must be taking a rare moment of recharge. But just to be certain- he would check and then disperse.
Megatron, Lord of the Decepticons, ex-gladiator with no equal, did not recharge often. In fact he had not taken a moment to purge his processor since the Nemesis had been damaged pursuing the Arc. Soundwave, who would never normally pester Megatron over his habits or inclinations had been pinging him with the dates of his last recharge for almost a vorn. Now that Alpha Trion was dead and they had taken the Nemesis to a passable point repair-wise, he had no excuse to avoid powering down for a few clicks. He knew it, Soundwave knew it.
Megatron lay on the giant berth- cycling his vents slowly, optics closed. What lay within his own processor was far worse than the atrocities on the outside. Soundwave had been quite adamant that he begin using chemical or even cortical patch assistance, that the lack of purging was beginning to degrade his processor. But Megatron refused- he would not have another substance put into his body. He would not be helpless or dependant. Never again.
He knew he was beginning his purging cycle because the room around him began to squeeze tighter. His plating rattled as the room shifted from comfortable quarters to a cramped cave, his vents sputtering as they clogged with tainted energon and millennia of dust. His neck guard tightened into a collar and he choked, gagging as a phantom charge laced through his body. He had hoped that he might re-live a fight in the Pit, but it was not to be so.
Voices began to ricochet inside his helm.
'WHOA, check out the antiques. HOW long has this mine been sealed?' A sneering face peering down a long dark shaft where several machines huddled, digging miserably for the energon crystals that they needed to survive.
'Mining assignment LUNA-02781, shaft D. Its been in operation for over one-hundred thousand vorns- it was one of the richest Energon veins on Luna 2. Most of the machines down here are the heavy builds from before the Golden Age.' A pause. 'But they've been under quota for the past eleven counts- and believe me these things wouldn't be under quota unless they were totally DONE. Recon checked it out- the whole vein is just gone, harvested to the last crystal.'
A brilliant, blinding light illuminated the shaft, exposing the filthy, starving mechs below, most of them empty, greying shells of drones, built only to harvest. Many showed signs of cannibalism, their huge claws chewed off for scraps of energon on the tips.
'Usually the people in charge just send in a clean-up crew and relocate the workers but these ones are from so long ago they don't even have batch numbers. Boss is letting a few of you agents pick through the lot before he sterilizes.'
'Yeeech. I don't know. They don't seem fit for the scrapyard...I might be able to salvage a few for heavy labor on Cybertron but the rest are junk.'
'Some of them may be more intact than others- there were many different makes sealed up here. They still use the collar system even. Pre-Golden age tech.'
A sharp scoff. 'Well, pull them out and lets have a look.'
One by one serial names were rattled off, and Megatron felt the phantom terror of his collar tightening as his own was called, the electric pain lancing through him and he stumbled through the cave opening.
'D-16! D-17! D-18! Fall in line!' A stinging solvent spray hit him, blinding him and he cowered, pathetic and miserable as he was hosed down, exposing heavy armor and strong claws. Some of his companions were less fortunate, howling in pain as decayed metal sluiced off their protoforms, energon deprivation causing permanent damage to their armor. He watched in horror as his comrades were put down then and there, a command sent through their collars, guttering their spark and leaving nothing but a husk.
Megatron felt himself whimper and despised himself for it. He hunched and curled in on himself, hiding from the bright outside world and protecting his optics from the horror around him.
'Hellooooo.' A sneering smile and a light step-a mech with more polish than Megatron had ever seen in the dark mineshafts. He was half Megatron's size, but he looked down at the giant mech, through his nose. 'This one looks different.' He ran his fingers over Megatron's body, touching and prodding, molesting under his plating with brazen greed. 'Exotic even.'
'Mmmm, he has weapon capabilities!' A nimble hand traced his arms, 'What is he doing down here?'
'Warbuilds with high-radiation tolerance and weight-bearing capabilities got put on mining duty after the Quintessicon wars. He's been modified for mining but still has some of the old components.' The overseer- a tired, muddy colored mech tapped on his tablet.
'D-16. He's been working this mine since its opening. Heavyweight, Team Leader- due to higher-processor functioning.'
'Quintessicon? He doesn't look that old.' A light servo was stroking his thigh, appraising it, sliding up into his hip joint and pinching. Megatron shuddered in revulsion at the contact.
'This Energon vein mine has required no backup for the hundred-thousand vorns it has been established. I can't account for how slow or fast a mech chooses to degrade.' The sour-faced overseer had helpers spraying the straggling miners as they emerged like lost sparklings from the tunnel.
'So he's quality material. You know, with a little cleaning and some weapon enhancements, I think I might have the perfect function for this beast.'
'Hm?' The overseer seemed a bit bored as he wrote out Megatron's serial number. 'What's that?'
'The Pit needs a new monster, you know. The Hero has been slaying all his competition- Helix has this Sound-bot that uses prehensile tentacles and Kaon needs to supply something equally terrifying if we're going to keep the crowds coming in.'
'Psh, bloodsport - waste of machinery. Is that the only one you want?'
Megatron felt himself cowering as the sneering mech swiped a card over the overseer's tablet. 'The rest of these are rotting on their feet. All those stories about the unstoppable miners on Luna 2 are just more sentimental garbage.'
'Alright then.' The overseer handed over a control to the sneering mech. 'His collar control.' Then he turned and walked to the other miners, all wheezing and exhausted. As Megatron felt his former self being led away, looking back at his brothers who had been with him since as long as his processor could recall, he knew he would never see them again, and lacking energy for expression, vocalized static.
'Heh heh hehe...' the smaller sneering mech began to giggle at the miner he led to a transport shuttle. 'A gentle giant, huh? We'll fix that.'
Megatron wrestled from the purge, pulling his consciousness- ripping himself from the painful memories and spinning.
Purring. 'What did you bring me?' 'A big beast with a soft spark.' 'Ohhh, glorious.'
No.
No.
'Mmmm, Megatronus, that's such a strong name. Come here...Megatronus. Come to your Master.'
No! Enough! No more!
Why couldn't this purge END?
'Megatronus...? Are you angry with me?'
'I thought you would be happy...'
'Megatronus? Please...'
A flux of data, coming from all corners of his processor in bites only long enough to create terror in his processor, jolts of panic long repressed flashing through his limbs.
ENOUGH! ENOUGH! This recharge cycle was ending even if it hadn't completed. Megatron felt his hand gripping tight enough to tear even his powerful armor and the stinging roused him from his berth. He choked and spat- blue energon was leaking from his mouth where he had been grinding his sharp denta into his lips. He lurched over to a sitting position on his berth, his processor spinning from the interrupted cycle.
He sat, numb, before wiping his mouth with a claw and then falling backwards, staring up at the ceiling.
Starscream stood outside the doors to Lord Megatron's quarters and shifted from pede to pede.
He didn't dare enter without permission, but as always his insatiable curiosity was beginning to overwhelm his common sense. Everyone (except perhaps the drones) had the right to their own privacy of course, but Megatron had begun to worry him- there had been sounds as though the Warlord were nursing a wound. A withered cry- something pained followed by silence was what finally spurred him to act. It was out of concern for his Master, after all- he couldn't be punished for that.
Although Lord Megatron's quarters were passcode locked, enough drones entered and exited for maintenance purposes that the doorlock could be bribed from a few of the weaker-willed.
Starscream felt his attentions were well-spent when the door popped open.
He stepped into the doorway, observing a spartan room- empty of the trophies Starscream was certain would line the walls. He quickly caught sight of the titan warlord laying on the berth, his face smeared with glowing energon, a claw leaking down the berth.
'Lord Megatron!' Starscream instantly felt rage directed towards Knock-Out. The medic had LIED to him- he had claimed their leader had no injuries. He would take severe action to correct the polished red fool's inaccuracy! 'You are wounded!'
As he ran to his leader's side, Megatron turned to him with dull, half-lidded optics.
'Starscream.' He clenched his injured hand, oblivious or in Starscream's mind, dulled to the pain. 'How did you...why am I not surprised that you somehow obtained the passcodes to my private quarters.'
Starscream reached Megatron's berth, talons opening to carefully inspect the sliced lips. 'Ah...your face...'
The huge mech sat up suddenly, running his glossa over the serrated edges of his mouth, wiping the energon from it.
'Were you planning to kill me in my sleep?' Megatron's tone barely changed but his optics flared bright and narrowed.
Starscream felt his armor flatten in reaction to Megatron's flat stare. 'N-no my Lord! I was surveying the Nemesis and did not see you! I came to check if you had retired-I was about to leave when I heard noises...'
Megatron couldn't help but chuckle darkly at how quickly Starscream had panicked at his assassination jibe.
He stared at his Commander again, perplexed by the insolence of the intrusion juxtaposed by the almost obsequious amount of care his new Second was giving him. His optics flickered off and on and he looked down to finally stare at his servo, energon still leaking sluggishly from cuts inflicted by his own claws.
Starscream stumbled over himself when he realized that Megatron had been playing with him. The mech really kept a convincing straight face.
Well, if his Lord was in a joking mood...Starscream swallowed his fear and moved forward boldly, reaching out with his long servos and carefully touching Megatron's arm. The warlord growled in warning, but a blow never came to reprimand Starscream. The slim flier pressed a little closer holding Megatron's injured servo.
'Lord Megatron.' He spoke softly, running the tips of his claws softly along the warm metal of his leader's arm. 'I am your Commander- it is always my first priority to secure your safety.'
Megatron tensed and Starscream stilled, obviously the Decepticon Lord was not pleased with physical contact. Perhaps he was in pain? 'Shall...shall I comm Hook?' he asked, watching the heavy claws clench and release.
'No.' Megatron looked away, eyes narrowing. 'Get out. I will brief you in less than 5 joors on the Bridge as to our next move.'
A sharp grin, pulling open a cut on lips. 'If you ever come in here again without my invitation I will remove your head, Starscream. Do you understand?'
Starscream felt the dismissal as well as heard it, and he bowed low, showing he was receptive to the command. It stung- he wasn't trusted yet, even after the successful raid of the Iaconian Repository and the execution of Ramjet. He was used to the tactile interactions of his Trine and he knew somehow that Megatron loathed touch. He had only expressed concern for the only mech in the Decepticon legion that could feel any kinship to. Still, it wouldn't make sense for Megatron to be won over so easily- he would have to take many little steps.
He bowed low again, obediently. 'As you command, my Lord.'
He backed out towards the door.
Megatron sat on his berth for a few moments longs, the ghost sensations of long talons touching his arm. The seeker he had promoted to Commander had a very devious nature indeed- and an obvious lack of self-preservation. That was twice now that the slender mech had acted against orders. It was so baffling that he couldn't even bring himself to be that angry.
Megatron hadn't been able to observe the flier as much as he would have liked in the thick of the war- and after the Nemesis had been stranded and he had been so focused on pushing the survivors to the isolated Autobot outpost. He and Starscream had been side-by-side, back-to-back, spilling Energon and losing comrades this entire war. It had come down to the fact that there were no mechs qualified to be Megatron's Second-in-Command better than Starscream. The slim mech had always held a place in the deep catalogue of soliders that served under him.
He rose from his berth. Starscream had been on his peripheral since his first meeting with the fast jet. He had been saving the mech, to be truthful- purposefully keeping him from the most casualty dense battlefields. He didn't need to be a medic to see that the lithe jet and his kin were built to fly at high speeds, not engage in hand-to-hand combat.
And yet.
His new Commander had been the one to kill Ramjet. And an Autobot guard. When they had first met, Starscream had brought an entire seeker squadron, as well as a stolen shuttle filled with Energon. The skinny flier had impressed him with his resourcefulness. He had continued to do so, even though he skirted the line from independence to downright insolence.
The giant titan walked to a portable console that released a solvent that washed his clawed servos. He wiped the wet solution over his mouth as well and swirled it across his sharp denta before spitting. Soundwave would notice.
He would access the surveillance files and make note of Starscream entering. He would make note of the fact that the jet had left unharmed as well.
Megatron took a loose nanite cloth and scrubbed off his servo cuts and lip, tossing it onto the berth. Now that he had failed yet another recharge cycle he would have to go back to the bridge and de-brief Starscream.
The lights on the Nemesis flickered, and he scowled.
The entrance to the Bridge had a presence, almost like a phosphorescence, indicating that this was indeed the area that Lord Megatron spent his time. Starscream stepped through the doors with his wings perky, nervously feigning confidence.
Megatron stood in front of a display with Soundwave, a silent sentinel at his side. They both turned to glance at Starscream as he strode in, walking on the tips of his pedes carefully. Megatron blinked slowly at his appearance but greeted him.
'Starscream. Come and see our gradual demise.' Megatron offered a bitter grin at those words and leaned forward to gesture at the calculations on the screen. The flier clicked over to the other mechs and looked up, large optics darting back and forth to take in the news.
'Ah..uh...that is all that we were able to retrieve?' Starscream's vocalizer dropped in disappointment. The diagram of the Nemesis showed an extensive lattice of damages that were all competing for the limited energon that was being siphoned from the Repository.
'Soundwave was able to track the space bridge within the outpost being accessed over a dozen times before we were able to interrupt their transmissions.' Megatron replied bitterly, swiping a claw through the air and gesturing to the ruins below them. 'It is most likely that Alpha Trion did it not only to secure his most prized relics from our hands, but also to waste as much fuel as possible.'
The warlord turned to Soundwave, who then turned to Starscream, an image of several Autobot mechs laying in stasis projected on his mask.
'The explosion Alpha Trion released destroyed him- and it also caused the survivors of our siege to enter into a deep stasis. Their minds are locked from us without access to a cortical patch. Something we no longer have without Cybertron.' Megatron was growling at the very mention of Alpha Trion's name and he paced around the bridge like a great beast.
'But Soundwave WAS able to retrieve an encrypted message. One that wasn't meant to be intercepted. Once we crack open an Autobots processor for the answers, we will likely know where the Arc has gone, and who among them have survived.'
Starscream turned from Soundwave's projection to step back to the Nemesis diagram.
'Of course we must have a ship to pursue the Autobots with first...' He murmured, clicking his claws as he read out the diagnostics.
'Your new assignment, Starscream.' Megatron's large shoulders rolled, running his eyes over his new Second.
'You will oversee the repairs of this ship.'
Starscream almost rolled his eyes. Welding duty, lovely.
'And. You will also oversee the repairs on the Space Bridge.'
Starscream's wings jerked up at that.
'What? Lord Megatron, a Space Bridge might take years to repair, its a masterpiece of finely tuned diagnostics and engineering.'
'Yes, I have the greatest faith in you, Seeker.'
Starscream again had to bite down hard at the words that wanted to spill forth. I am not Shockwave- and even he would have trouble repairing something with the shortage of supplies we have.
Instead he looked down at his sharp pedes and bowed. Megatron was already turning from him again and speaking to Soundwave. Starscream felt the puff of frustration escape from his vents, but he did not turn until he had walked through the doorway to the bridge. In his room he pounded the wall, leaving deep dents, gnashing his denta.
This was meant to be his chance, but it seemed as if he was already being ordered to do the impossible. It wasn't fair- nothing ever had been. The sweet taste of camaraderie and respect and power before the Iaconian raid, it had been another cruel trick in Megatron's vast arsenal of deceit.
AN: Hello gentle readers, thanks for reading! I have to admit that this third season of TFP, followed by the movie has really left a bad taste in my mouth. It tastes like lost potential and the ruination of good character development! Oh, it is bitter stuff.
But I won't give up on my precious head-canon of a competent, dangerous Starscream and a Megatron that can actually learn- and not just when its convenient.
I'd love to hear your thoughts- feedback is really appreciated, since I'm flying pretty blind with this one.
Take care, darlings!
- Econtra
